


Loud and Clear

by Pinkmanite



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blowjob/Fellatio, Cannabis, Dealer!Tim, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oneshot, Pothead!Matthew, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Matthew had never tasted Tim’s kush, he would’ve been just fine with the shit leaves that Gilbert’s been hooking him up with. But Tim's right. Once you taste his strain, you can never go back. <i>NedCan. Oneshot.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Loud and Clear

Fuck Emmett. Like seriously fuck him.

Matthew is getting antsy. It’s been a week since his last high, which is probably the longest he’s ever gone without a hit. And the only one to blame? His idiot best friend who also happened to be his drug dealer. Sorry, ex-dealer and effectively, ex-best friend.

How many times had he told him to cover his goddamn tracks?

Matthew knows this is dangerous but he's getting desperate. A week of forced sobriety reminds him why he's a hopeless pothead. Matthew can't remember how he dealt with anyone before his first taste of Janie.

Gilbert better not be setting him up because Matthew makes up his mind as soon as he kicks up his longboard. He holds his breath when he knocks at the side door.

"Can I help you?" The guy at the door only opens it a creak, the chain lock still done up. Matthew gulps.

"Uh hi um," he takes a deep breath, "you, uh, you selling?"

The guy eyes him up skeptically. He lifts up his shirt wordlessly and Matthew is confused for a moment. Realization hits him and he feels like an idiot.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt sent me," Matthew explains as he drops his board and grabs the back of the neckline of his shirt to pull it over his head. "I'm not a narc."

"Pants," the guy commands and Matthew rolls his eyes.

"Come on, man," Matthew whines, "I used to be one of Emmett's. This isn't cool."

"Yeah? Well look at Emmett now."

Matthew keeps his mouth shut because the asshole's got a point. That doesn't mean he doesn't make a show of how annoyed he is with stripping off his pants.

"There," Matthew declares, standing outside in nothing but his boxers like a fucking idiot, "I don't got a gun or nothing. Ya happy?"

"Turn around."

"This is incredible," Matthew grumbles, turning his back to the guy. He puts his hands on top of his head to stretch.

"Like what you see?" Matthew taunts, glancing over his shoulder with a look that reads "are you fucking satisfied yet?"

"Yeah, I guess. You got an ID, kid," the guy asks as he starts to undo the locks, finally opening the door all the way. He steps asides and motions for Matthew, who is struggling to hold his clothing and his board, to come inside.

"Drop your shit over there," the guy motions vaguely around the door. Matthew nods as he slips his clothes back on.

"My ID," Matthew holds out the little portrait-oriented card to the guy. He keeps his wallet on the table.

"Matthew Williams..." The dealer mutters to himself as he types into his computer. "You're like what," he pauses to raise an eyebrow at Matthew, "sixteen, seventeen?"

"Sixteen," Matthew answers.

"Good god, I'm going to hell," the guy mutters. "Do you plan on becoming a regular?"

"What is this, the doctor's office?"

"Do you want some weed or not?"

"Yeah, I'll probably be a regular. Unless your kush is shit."

"I can assure you that my kush is not shit."

"Only one way to find out," Matthew hums.

"Well, have a gram and tell me what you think."

"How much?"

"First gram is on the house."

"Seriously?" Matthew sees the warning flags. "What's the catch?"

"There is none. I mean, once you taste my strains, you'll never be satisfied with anything else. I guess that's the catch.”

"Then I guess I'm not opposed. Thanks," Matthew pauses, "yo, what did you say your name was?"

"Tim."

"Thanks, Tim."

"Don't be thanking me just yet, kid. Your wallet's not going to be happy once you're hooked."

"Yeah, okay," Matthew brushes him off. He pockets his wallet when Tim hands back his ID.

"I'll expect you tomorrow around the same time," Tim says when Matthew picks up his longboard. Matthew scoffs. No one's Janie is _that_ good.

 

* * *

Four hours later, Matthew’s locked himself in the bathroom, the shower running on the hottest setting to fill the room with steam. Matthew giggles because he’s pretty sure that he can hear his brother banging on the door but he’s not one hundred percent certain and for all he knows, he’s totally imagining it.

Matthew presses his bare back into the door, sinking down until he’s sitting on the floor. He’s stripped his clothes save for his boxers because the steam is fucking hot. The sweat has already coated his body. Matthew loves his hair and, when sober, would die before it got messed up, but right now? He just runs his hands through the damp strands. Matthew gropes around the counter until he can grasp the half-burnt joint. He holds it to his lips and takes a long drag, holding it in for a good moment. Matthew focuses on the feeling of the smoke in his lungs, hot and slightly uncomfortable, but amazing at the same time.

When he exhales, he muses about how he looks like a fire-breathing dragon and ends up giggling for a good while, doubling over and cracking up until his sides hurts and he’s gasping to catch his breath. When he’s done, he takes another puff and watches as the smoke mingles in with the steam.

Matthew leans back again and closes his eyes. His mind is fresh and clean and Matthew feels so far gone that none of his issues can reach him here. It’s refreshing and Matthew feels incredible. This loud is exactly what he needed to clear his head.

This is the best high Matthew’s ever ridden.

 

* * *

Tim opens the door before Matthew even knocks. Matthew feels totally played because Tim is expecting him to come right on time, even told him so. Matthew is just another predictable pothead.

"What did I tell you?" Tim smirks cockily, expectantly. Matthew is annoyed and is about to get up and leave but the memory of his last high hits him, so he stays seated.

"How much?"

"Straight to the point, huh?" Tim raises an eyebrow.

"I don't come here to play around, man."

"You're sixteen. My prices aren't cheap."

Matthew moves to take out his wallet and starts counting out bills. "Money's not really an issue."

"Ah ah ah," Tim hushes him. "The monetary portion of my price is fair. Cheap, even. It's the other portion I'm concerned about."

Fuck, here comes the catch. Matthew carefully chooses his next words, "what do you mean?"

"Tell me, Matthew, have you ever sucked cock before?"

Oh.

Matthew turns bright red.

"Um, well, what if I give you double the cash? I'm not even legal, man," Matthew bargains. Tim shakes his head.

"Who cares? Pot ain't legal, either."

"Come on, how 'bout a special price just for me?"

"My price is my price and I'm firm on it. Fifteen and a blowie for a gram of my finest. That's one blow per transaction, by the way. You buy ten grams right now and you only gotta blow me once."

"But I'm straight!"

Tim laughs. "If you don't want to buy, get outta here. Door's open."

Matthew shuts his mouth and stays put. Tim nods after a moment and motions for Matthew to follow him further into the house. Tim falls into a plush armchair, legs spread open. Matthew gulps.

"This is so pedophilia," Matthew murmurs.

"I'm only like ten years older than you," Tim whines. Matthew gives him a curt "fuck you" kind of look and Tim raises his hands in defense.

"I'm not forcing you. You're free to leave whenever you want."

"I know," Matthew sighs in resignation, sinking to his knees between Tim's thighs.

Heart beating fast, Matthew takes a few deep breaths to prepare himself. He inwardly wishes that Tim at least let him take a hit. Matthew adds this to the list of why he hates being sober.

Matthew hesitantly undoes the button of Tim's pants. He drags the zipper down, stealing a quick glance at Tim. He coughs awkwardly when his eyes meet Tim's, who is smirking down at him. With a squeak, Matthew looks back down, eyes level with Tim's groin.

Matthew's breath catches in his throat and he can feel his anxiety creeping up. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Matthew senses the panic attack coming on so he bolts up to his feet and coughs, struggling to keep his breath.

“Dude, I can’t do this,” Matthew manages to choke out. “Bathroom?”

Tim jumps up and does up his pants. Matthew thinks he looks concerned but the logical part of his brain knows he must be imagining it because Tim’s a dirty drug dealer. He isn’t the type to be concerned about a client.

Nonetheless, no one likes vomit decorating their floors, so Tim grabs Matthew by the shoulders and guides him to the bathroom. He holds Matthew’s hair back as he releases the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

“You alright, kid?” Tim pats his back as Matthew finishes up. He hands him a tissue, which the boy gratefully accepts. Matthew wipes his mouth a final time with the back of his arm before he stands.

“Look, Tim, I can’t do this, sorry. Can you refer me to another dealer? Anyone. I don’t care about the quality. I just need something in my system, ‘else I have panic attacks and it gets crazy. You gotta know someone. Please,” Matthew runs his hands through his hair, his breathing steadied. He feels hot and he’s not particularly in the mood to beg but he knows he needs this.

Tim’s expression softens and he sighs, “alright, kid, I’ll cut you a break this one time. Double price, thirty greens, and you can have a gram. Come back when you need another hit and I’ll have info on other dealers,” he pauses and puts a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “You sure you’re alright, though? I didn’t mean to fuck you up so bad, kid.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s no biggie,” Matthew mumbles. His hand is already at his pocket, going for his wallet. He hands Tim three tens.

“Come on, Matthew, I’ll get you a baggie.”

And so he does.

 

* * *

The next day at school, Matthew grabs Gilbert by his shirt and drags him away from his circle of friends and outside and around the back. He ignores Gilbert’s complaints until they get to the wall. He shoves him into it.

“Your guy was a fucking psycho, Gib,” Matthew says, punching Gilbert in the arm.

“Ow, what the fuck, Matt?” Gilbert whines, gingerly cradling his arm, “that fucking hurts!”

“Dude, your guy gave me the best kush I’ve ever touched and then he turns around and tells me I gotta suck his dick for another taste. Fucking homo.”

“Matthew, I’d like to remind you of your first and effectively last girlfriend--”

“Oh come on, Gib, not this again.”

“--and how you couldn’t pop a boner when she took off her shirt--”

“Gib, I swear to god…”

“--and how you’re totally and completely fucking gay.”

“You’re a fucker, you know that?” Matthew glares at him before punching him again in the same spot.

“Fucking hell, Matt,” Gilbert shouts. He tries to punch Matthew back, but Matthew sidesteps and dodges the throw.

“Look, Gib,” Matt says, backing down from the fight, “I just need a hit. It can be skunk for all I care. I’m not going to last very long if I don’t get a hit of something.”

Gilbert notices Matthew deflate and realizes that it’s serious. He nods and ignores the throbbing in his arm. “I’ve got some hash stashed up at home. I can sell that to you but after that you’re going to have to go into the city to get more. Tim’s the only guy based out here.”

“I fucking hate Emmett like a lot right now,” Matthew groans.

“It’s kind of weird that he gave you the blowjob deal, though. He usually keeps that one for bitches,” Gilbert mentions, muttering more to himself than to Matthew. Matthew, however, doesn’t miss it. His face goes red.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, really, he sells to me for thirty a gram.”

Matthew stares at his friend for a moment as he thinks about this new information. Suddenly, something hits him.

“Do you remember the first time you went to Tim?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Did he make you strip to make sure you weren’t tapped?”

“What the fuck? No, why?”

“Holy shit, man, he totally made me strip so he could check me out. What the fuuuuuuck,” Matthew groans. He falls into the wall, covering his face with his forearm. He grumbles abotu how gross the whole situation is while Gilbert stands by.

“Matt, chill, he didn’t force you into anything, right?”

“Well not really, but he ain't gonna sell me squat shit unless I put his crusty-ass dick in my mouth. Disgusting,” Matthew spits, nearly pulling his hair out with how many times he runs his hands through it.

“Well forget him, then,” Gilbert offers, “I’ll hook you up with a small time dealer. Their strain is gonna be shit, though.”

“Anything, Gib, I’ll take anything.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

 

* * *

Three weeks later and Matthew has to stay home from school to keep from losing it. While he really hates Emmett right now, he hates Tim even more. If he had never breathed in Tim’s kush, he would’ve been just fine with the shit leaves that Gilbert’s been hooking him up with. But Tim’s right. Once you taste his strain, you can never go back.

Matthew carefully orchestrates his next plan of attack. He waits a week to make sure he’s satisfied with it. On Day Seven, Matthew decides it’s now or never. He stuffs his pocket with no more that a ten and a five and throws down his longboard. It’s Go Time.

This time, Matthew doesn’t wait for Tim to let him in. He bangs on the door until he hears the lock unclick, then slams the door open himself, almost hitting Tim in the face. Deciding that apologizing would probably kill the mood of his little act, Matthew goes straight into it.

He punches Tim in the arm.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Tim cradles his arm. Matthew almost laughs because it reminds him of Gilbert.

“Gilbert told me that you only give your little ‘fifteen and a blowie’ offer to chicks,” Matthew spits. “Is that true?”

“Nah,” Tim shakes his head, “I only give it to people I find attractive.”

Matthew gawks at him.

“Hey man,” Tim says defensively, “nothing to be ashamed of. You’re hot. Sorry.”

“This is literally so weird.”

“Is that all you wanted to know?” Tim shifts uncomfortably, thumbing at the door. “‘Cause if that’s all, I’ve got work to do. My plants don’t grow themselves, man.”

“No,” Matthew quietly admits.

“‘No’ what?” Tim looks genuinely confused and Matthew wants to slap him.

“If you think I’m so goddamn attractive, you’re gonna give me a free hit before I blow you, just so I’m chill. Then you’re gonna give me double dosage for my fifteen.”

Tim balks at his offer. Yet, he doesn’t outright say no and he’s looking Matthew up and down again, so Matthew takes that as a good sign. Finally, Tim gulps and nods his approval.

“We’re going to share that first blunt, that okay?”

“That’ll do just fine,” Matthew murmurs, checking out Tim for himself. Might as well get himself in the mood. Matthew tells himself that Tim isn’t necessarily unattractive. He’s just horribly, horribly male and Matthew doesn’t think he himself is gay.

But that’s whatever because a good hit of Tim’s fine-as-fuck kush will loosen Matt up enough to the point where his “gay or not” identity crisis won’t even matter.

Three puffs in and Matthew knows his hypothesis is correct. He couldn’t give two flying fucks about anything he does right now because everything feels good. Tim jumps when Matthew swings his legs to straddle the man’s lap. Matthew doesn’t know how he knows what to do but he feels like he’s doing something right when he threads his fingers through Tim’s spiked hair and smashes their lips together. Tim groans into the kiss and Matthew smirks.

“Fuck, Matthew, if I knew you got like this with a puff before--”

“Shut up,” Matthew mutters, silencing Tim with another rough kiss.

Matthew doesn’t object when Tim’s hands start to wander under his shirt. He still squeaks when Tim slips his hand into Matthew’s back pocket and gropes his ass. Fuck, this is weird, but at the same time, not bad. Matthew doesn’t think too hard on it because Tim’s other hand has found his nipple and shit, does it feel good when he twists it like that.

Matthew starts to roll his hips, grinding against Tim’s lap. He smirks when Tim moans particularly loudly. Matthew’s a little surprised to say that he finds pride in the fact that he can feel Tim’s erection below him. Good god, this kush is strong.

Matthew whips off his own shirt before he goes in on undoing the buttons on Tim’s. He’s busy wrestling the shirt off of Tim’s shoulders when Tim grabs his chin and tilts his head to the side, attacking his neck and nipping at the skin. Matthew moans when Tim leaves a hickie near his collarbone, licking and teasing the area around it.

“Shit,” Matthew mutters when he feels Tim’s teeth scrape across his shoulder. But Matthew is tired of the teasing and wants to move on. He nips on the shell of Tim’s ear to get him to let up.

“Tim, please,” Matthew murmurs against his ear, “lemme go down on you now.”

“How can I say no to that pretty face,” Tim smirks. He sits back and parts his knees to make room for Matthew.

The boy slides down while peppering little kisses down Tim’s chest and abs. If he weren’t so far gone, he probably wouldn’t find Tim’s firm six pack as hot as he does right now. Matthew groans when the skin stops and his lips are met with the hem of Tim's jeans. Matthew works open the button and carefully slides down the zipper. He’s got Tim’s cock pulled out of his boxers in one more fluid motion.

Tim hisses when Matthew thumbs around the slit, teasing his head. The boy giggles in such a way that he only does whilst high. He likes the sounds Tim makes when he does something particularly arousing. Matthew decides to go big because it’s too late to go home.

Because Tim is mostly hard, Matthew finds it easy to lick along the vein on the underside. He starts with a teasing lick on Tim’s balls that follows all the way through to the top, where Matthew swirls the tip of his tongue firmly around the slit. Matthew can’t help but savor the taste of Tim’s precum. Matthew is sure he’d think differently if he was sober, but it’s not gross. Not that he likes it, but he definitely doesn’t mind it.

When Matthew takes the head into his mouth, suckling firmly around it, Tim groans particularly loudly. His hands are immediately fisted in Matthew’s hair. Normally, Matthew would not be happy with anything messing up his hair but he’s got Tim’s cock halfway down his throat and he’s in no position to complain.

However experienced Matthew likes to think he is (not firsthand, of course, just from watching shitty internet porn and living those experiences vicariously through porn stars), he’s still undoubtedly a beginner and taking Tim’s full length isn't easy. While he slowly works his way down, trying his best to relax his throat, Matthew fondles the lower portion of Tim’s cock with one hand. He uses the other to massage Tim’s balls.

“Holy shit, this can’t be the first time,” Tim groans, still grabbing at Matthew’s hair. Matthew just hums, which makes Tim’s breath hitch between moans.

Matthew’s got about three quarters of Tim’s cock down his throat when Tim declares that he can’t control himself any longer. Matthew doesn’t really know what he means before the hands in his hair take a firmer grip and Matthew has to surrender the control of his own head.

After a few thrusts in which Tim’s cock hits the back of throat, causing Matthew to choke on his inexperience, Matthew quickly figures out to breathe through his nose and keep his jaw slacked. Tim is pulling his mouth up and down by his grip in Matthew's hair. Tim matches his thrusts to the rhythm he's moving Matthew's head to, grunting obscenities under his breath.

The whole situation, the sheer lack of control, mixed with Tim’s kush, turns Matthew on more than anything ever has.

"You're such a fucking slut," Tim groans.

Matthew moans to that, which causes Tim’s thrusts to become faster, his grip tighter. Tim shoves Matthew's head all the way down when he comes without a warning. Too focused on his orgasm, he doesn’t realize he’s holding down a struggling Matthew.

As soon as he get the opportunity, Matthew pushes off of Tim’s dick and coughs up his cum. He forcibly hacks when he realizes that he’s got cum up his nose. Fuck, this sucks.

However, despite the uncomfortable feeling of semen-filled sinuses, Matthew’s own erection throbs painfully in his pants. He curses because Tim is double high on both the blunt and natural post-orgasm high and is still panting breathlessly from his spot on the couch. Knees sore, Matthew climbs up on the couch beside him. He shamelessly wiggles out of his own pants and pulls his erection out, giggling when it bounces against his stomach.

Before Matthew is able to grasp his own cock, Tim’s hand is already there, smearing Matthew’s precum over the head and onto his fingers. Matthew melts into the cushions as Tim continues to rough up his dick. Tim’s fingers go for his head, teasingly massaging around the slit. Pretty soon, Tim’s hand encloses the shaft. Matthew whines when his rough, calloused hands pump him. Matthew likes how it feels with Tim’s hands. Which is why it only takes him another minute or so to release over himself with a shout.

“Fuck,” Matthew exhales.

“Same,” Tim nods, leaning over to meet Matthew’s lips. This kiss is much more gentle and tender. Matthew can feel it tingle on his lips as he starts to come down. Matthew tenderly wraps his arms around Tim’s neck. In turn, Tim winds one arm around Matthew’s waist, pulling him closer. Tim twines his other hand in the hair on the back of Matthew’s head, pulling him deeper into the kiss itself. With his libido satiated, Matthew can now feel the passion in Tim’s kisses. He opens his mouth to let Tim dominate his mouth with his expert tongue.

Matthew revels in it.

 

* * *

Matthew doesn’t remember when or how he fell asleep, but he wakes up a few hours after he first arrived at Tim’s place. He blinks his eyes into focus and raises an eyebrow at the blanket he’s snuggling into. Matthew realizes that he’s still on the couch in nothing but his boxers. He’s both grateful and slightly creeped out that the mess of his orgasm has been cleaned from his skin.

Despite the fact he only took about a third of the blunt, Matthew’s still riding the lasts of his high. He’s slightly annoyed that he slept through most of it, but he decides it doesn't matter since that one was free.

This is when it really hits him that he sucked off Tim. And then some.

Matthew blushes at the thought but he’s not as disgusted with his memory as he was with the prospect itself prior to their activities. There’s no room to be ashamed, however, because Matthew also realizes that he scored two grams of the world’s finest kush for the low price of fifteen greens. That definitely wakes him up.

He rolls off the couch and tries his best to neatly fold up the blanket, but it’s a lost cause because although he’s mostly come down, he’s definitely not sober. Matthew decides to find his clothes and seek out Tim so he can take his baggies and go home.

Matthew walks into the front room with the kitchen and immediately wishes he didn’t.

Tim has his back to him and is in the middle of conversation with a couple of guys that tower over him. Matthew gulps and spins on his heel to return to the couch room because he’s still in his underwear and it looks like whatever Tim is doing is pretty important.

“Who’s that,” one guy asks. Fuck. Busted.

Tim turns and spots Matthew in mid-retreat.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” Tim hums, “it’s dealer-client confidentiality.”

“Since when did you start serving jailbait, huh, Tim?” The other one laughs and shoves Tim’s shoulder in a friendly gesture but it’s obvious that Tim is uncomfortable.

“This kid who used to deal to the high school market? Got busted. His plant was shit, anyway. I’m doing these brats a favor,” Tim says, somewhat mocking, “now if you’ll excuse me, business hours are closed, so if you’d please take you purchases and be on your way?”

“Come now, Timmy-boy,” the first one sang, “you don’t gotta kick us out. We’re cool, remember? Why don’t you introduce us to your new bitch?”

Matthew swallows hard and decides that that’s enough. He retreats back into the room and locks the door. He doesn’t care that it was pretty obvious and that the two guys are laughing now.

It starts to get really uncomfortable when he hears the two guys talk more about him. Matthew doesn’t like it when the first one makes a comment about his ass and when the second one agrees with a promiscuous comment about his blond head. Matthew starts to realize why Gilbert is always teasing him about being twink. Everyone’s a fucking pervert nowadays.

Matthew thinks he’s imagining it when he hears Tim defend him. He’s probably hearing things while his high dwindles out. Why would Tim care if they said this or that? Wouldn’t it make him look cool to have a piece of ass hanging around his house? Matthew shakes his head. Whatever. Tim’s a strange guy.

So Matthew waits patiently for him to come and get him.

And a few minutes later, Tim does.

“I’d like my clothes, my weed, and to be on my way home as soon as possible, thanks,” Matthew demands as soon as Tim walks in. “Also, I don’t fucking appreciate your little friends, you goddamn pervert.”

Tim shakes his head with a chuckle, “sorry about them, by the way. They’re assholes,” Tim tosses a stack of clothing to him, “I washed your clothes. There was cum everywhere, I figured you wouldn’t want to go home with the evidence splattered all over you, yeah?”

Matthew blushes again, which makes Tim laugh. Matthew ignores him and slips his clothes on. He only thinks to mutter a brief “thanks” when he’s fully dressed.

“It’s late, I’ll drive you home,” Tim declares. Matthew notices that it’s not an offer, instead a statement, but he counters, anyway.

“I’m just fine with my board.”

“I don’t think so,” Tim shakes his head, “it’s dark out. You’ve got real criminals wandering around out there by now. Not just honest junkies. Besides, I already threw your board in my trunk. Don’t be difficult, Matthew.”

Matthew grumbles because he knows he’s already lost this round.

“Lead the way, asshole,” Matthew commands, “and don’t forget my goddamn kush.”

“Of course not,” Tim smirks smugly. He grabs the baggies off the counter as they walk past, tossing them to Matthew who fumbles with them but eventually catches them. He pockets them in the waistband of his underwear. Tim nods approvingly. Kid knows his shit.

Once they're in the car, Tim notices that Matthew is confused when he doesn’t ask for directions but knows where he’s going so he explains, “I took down your address when I copped your ID.”

“Oh.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes. Matthew idly wonders why he doesn’t turn on the radio but he figures it’s too late to ask now. They’re halfway to his house already.

“How many people do you make suck your dick?” Matthew says nonchalantly. He almost laughs when Tim coughs, losing his composure.

“How is that relevant?”

“Because I got your cum up my nose and I need to know if I should update my list of prescriptions.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “I’m clean, you dumbass.”

“Well excuse me for wondering, since you’re just out here giving blowjob discounts to anything with a mouth.”

Tim glares at him, “it’s not like that, Matt. I’ve only ever given that offer to four people. Yourself included.”

Matthew brushes a hand through his hair, even more annoyed. “What the fuck man?”

“I don’t do that to just anyone,” Tim mutters, “only attractive people. I told you that.”

“You’re so fucking creepy.”

“You say ‘fuck’ a lot.”

“Stop trying to change the subject, fucker.”

“Well you got me there.”

Matthew decides that now is the best time to shut up so he does. Tim keeps his mouth shut, as well. When they pull up to Matthew's house, Tim looks over before he unlocks the doors.

"Don't smoke it all in one sitting, kid," Tim says, "I'll expect you around the same time next week?"

"Fuck you," Matthew spits.

Tim shakes his head and laughs, which pisses Matthew off even more. Matthew fiddles with the door handle raucously until Tim finally releases the lock. Tim waves goodbye but Matthew just flips him off.

Matthew grumbles because he knows better than to waste the whole thing that quickly. Who does Tim think he is? Treating him like a kid? Jerk. Matthew reasons that he made it three weeks on Gilbert's skunk weed and hash, so he can totally prove Tim wrong.

And prove Tim wrong he does. It's only _five_ days before Matthew's knocking on his door again.

****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This thing completely wrote itself, oops. Also, I apologize for any inaccuracies, I am by no means a marijuana expert. Anyhow, if you liked this work, I would be very, very grateful if you liked or reblogged it on Tumblr by clicking [here](http://cappucciino.tumblr.com/post/104807072052/nedcan-o-oneshot-loud-and-clear)! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed ♡


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